The Bitter Principles
by Get Sherlocked
Summary: "All we can do, all you can do, Severus, is prepare her for the worst." Returning to Hogwarts in her sixth year, Hermione Granger had expected a much darker atmosphere; however, she hadn't expect a certain Potions Master to reach out for her in these trying times. She certainly hadn't expect him to save her either. SSHG. Semi-HBP and DH compliant.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or recognizable locations in this story. This story, while HBP and DH compliant, is my own work, which means that the events in the story will be played out similarly, but not the same. Not the same wording and not always the same timing. Please take note of this now before you continue. AN: My story was recently purged! What?! I'm so beyond pissed. I am reposting this! Sorry for the inconvenience. Here goes.**

* * *

"It must be done, Severus. We knew this was coming, one way or another," Albus Dumbledore said solemnly as he sat behind his large, aged mahogany desk, his palms face down on the dark surface.

The younger, yet significantly darker wizard across from the elderly headmaster scowled deeply in response, the lines on his face barely shifted as he did so. He growled, leaning down into the elderly man's face, his lips pulled back against his crooked teeth, "Of course we knew it was coming, Albus! What I am asking you is how we prevent it from happening!"

The Headmaster took a deep breath, but did not move away from Severus' proximity. He simply looked him in the eye, not glimmer nor glisten shone from behind the half-moon spectacles, and shook his head soberly. "All we can do, all _you_ can do, Severus, is prepare her for the worst."

* * *

Hermione Granger stood at the center of Platform 9 and ¾, her prefect badge as silver and polished as it was last year, when she first obtained it. She awaited the boys arrival anxiously, sitting perched upon her suitcase, her eyes scanning the incoming crowd of students and families. She had always been one of the first to arrive to the platform, unable to remain patient for too long; she always nagged her parents to rush to London as soon as was acceptable. Next to her, Crookshanks mewled unhappily in his pet carrier, obviously feeling confined and disgruntled. She'd been waiting at least forty minutes by herself, and was starting to get a bit flustered. Finally, in the distance, Hermione's eyes caught a patch of familiar red hair bobbing in the crowd. Her lips spread into an immense grin as she stood from her suitcase and ran towards her friends.

"Ron! Harry!" She called out, finally able to see their faces. Immediately, Harry locked eyes with her from behind his glasses and he grinned, elbowing Ron in the ribs while pointing a finger in Hermione's direction. Ron's faced absolutely beamed when he caught sight of her, which caused Hermione's stomach to clench oddly; she felt her face heat up.

"Oi! Mione! How was your summer?" Ron asked as he pulled into a tight embrace and held on to her longer than was necessary.

She pulled back and shook her head. "It was as good as expected," she said, her face turning somber before looking to Harry. "How are you doing? How are you _really_ doing, I mean," she asked as she pulled him into a hug, her voice professing her concern. She'd assumed that the pain and anger caused by Sirius' death had not subsided since she'd last seen him.

Harry was the first to pull away from the comforting embrace, brushing a piece of lint from his jumper awkwardly. When he lifted his face to her, she noticed that his expression was darker than she'd anything she had ever seen on him. A shiver ran down her spine as she examined the boy. On a second glance, she took note of the deep pain and sadness that resided in his eyes. "If it doesn't mean much, Hermione, I don't really want to talk about that right now," he said, effectively ending that road of conversation as he shifted his eyes away from her.

She nodded, nervously wringing her hands in front of her as she examined Harry with concern, "Well… alright," she said, feeling a bit hurt by his harsh dismissal. She cleared her throat and looked over to Ron with a tense smile. "Did anything happen over the summer that I missed? Again, I'm really, very sorry I wasn't there. My parents just feel like summer holiday is time I should be spending with them…," she ventured sadly. It was true; when she'd asked her parents if she could stay with at the Burrow over the summer, her mother had gone on about family, and how she'd been spending too much time dallying in the Wizard World; she understood, of course, but it didn't stop her from wanting to be with her boys.

Ron excitedly opened his mouth to speak, but Harry quickly cut him off, "I met the new defense teacher earlier this summer… Dumbledore brought me to persuade him into taking the job. He seems like a bit of nutter, really, but since when have we had a sane defense teacher, aside from Remus?"

This peaked Hermione's interest. "Who is he? Or she?" She asked, looking from Harry to Ron, and then back to Harry with wide, enthusiastic eyes.

"His name's Horace Slughorn. He really seemed reluctant when Dumbledore asked him to return; apparently he was a professor at Hogwarts a long time ago. He and Dumbledore are old friends, though, so I suppose I should trust him," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.

Hermione nodded before turning to Ron, "And your summer?" As she looked at him her stomach tickled on the inside. It was odd, and made her feel uncomfortable, yet elated at the same time. The feeling only intensified as he looked back at her.

"Fine, pretty much. A bit crazy, but that's the norm, you know. Mum and Ginny were pretty tense all summer… Oh! I forgot to tell you, didn't I?" He said, his brow lowered and his finger pressed deep into his cheek.

"What? Forgot to tell me what, Ron?" She asked him, obviously worried that something bad had happened over the summer that neither boy mentioned in any letters; she didn't like being out of the loop, not at all.

Ron took note of her anxiety and shook his head quickly. "No, no… Nothing bad- Well nothing _too_ bad, really. Fleur and Bill are engaged to be married… she's been driving Mum up the wall, and Ginny just hates her guts; couldn't tell you why, though, Fleur's a great girl," he said dreamily.

Hermione let out a breath of relief. "Oh, that's good, then…" Hermione looked around, before shooting a questioning look at both boys. "Speaking of which… Where is Ginny?"

Ron scowled and Harry shrugged his shoulders. "She's with _Dean Thomas_," Ron snarled viciously, causing Hermione to startle back a bit. She'd never seen Ron quite like this before, and it unnerved her.

She recoiled quickly though, looking back to the redheaded boy. "Why are you so upset about them being together? It's really not a big deal," she asked him, shrugging her shoulders and looking to Harry, who looked a bit apprehensive.

Ron's eyes snapped to her. "You're a girl, you wouldn't understand even if I tried to explain," he waved her away dismissively with a sharp scowl.

She scowled back and turned on her heel, feeling quite irritated with his remark. "Might as well get on the train, then, shall we? Meet the fifth year prefects and do our rounds," she said coolly, stalking away from the boys with her luggage in hand and leaving Ron feeling quite confused.

* * *

On the train, Hermione found that there was not much for her to do in terms of prefect duty. She'd met with the new Gryffindor prefects, Bethany Clarke, a quiet blonde, and Colin Creevey, who was quite the opposite. With the new set of prefects doing the rounds, Hermione found herself sitting alone in a train compartment with a book spread open in her lap but with her eyes focused on the window.

Her mind travelled as the train ride progress, her thoughts straying to what was to come in the new school year. With Voldemort back in corporeal form, she doubted it would be a happy-go-lucky year at Hogwarts School or Witchcraft and Wizardry. Not that the years previous had been a bargain either, just that life was definitely going to get much more difficult, she could tell. She began to think about her parents, worry filling her gut as she did so. She'd read an article not too long ago in the Daily Prophet about a muggle family of four being tortured and then violently killed in their home in Callington. She was almost certain that these killings were happening more in occurrence than the Ministry led the population to believe.

She shook her head and looked away from the window, not wanting to think on that subject any longer. Her eyes wandered to the old, browning page of the thick book. It was a book on shielding and warding charms, and mainly other defensive spells she'd hope to learn over the course of the year, and in turn teach them to Harry and Ron.

With her mind being unable to focus on anything for too long, Hermione decided to change into her uniform before drifting to sleep, allowing the sound of rattling train to sooth her animated mind.

* * *

Hermione awoke hazily as the train rolled to a stop in Hogsmeade Station. The sounds of fussing first years and students moving about the compartments nearby alarmed her of the train's safe arrival. Rising from her slouched and uncomfortable position against the window, Hermione groaned as her neck cracked achingly. She noticed that she was still alone, and for that she was grateful; her bout of sleep did not do much to assuage her currently sour attitude.

Another thing she took note of was that her belongings had already been transported to her dorm; normally, if she fell asleep on the train, she woke up before they sent away the suitcases and familiars. She simply shook it off, as it was not a big deal.

Dragging herself out into the hall, she was rattled by students left and right, all trying to make their way out to the carriages. Hermione noticed a little girl pressed up against a compartment door, her eyes looking around frantically and panicked. Hermione's attitude softened at the sight of this little first year. Slowly, she approached the girl. "Hello, there," she said with a smile, holding her hand out, "Let me help you out to the platform, at least," she offered.

The little, dark haired girl looked at Hermione's hand then at her face, and then back to her hand before taking hold of it. Once out on the platform, the little girl released her hand and before Hermione could say anything, the girl ran off without a word of thanks or leave. Hermione bristled, but moved on. She spotted a carriage up ahead, and inside sat Neville, Luna and Ron, but strangely there was no sight of Harry. She tried to ignore the thestrals ahead of the carriage, but found it to be quite difficult at the moment. She shivered uncomfortably at the thought of why she could see them now.

"Hello Hermione," Luna said dreamily as always, pulling Hermione out of her morose thoughts. Neville and Ron paused their conversation to look at her.

"Hey, Hermione."

"Mione."

She smiled at them and carefully climbed into the carriage, scooting next to Ron, and sitting across from Luna.

"It's odd, isn't it?" Ron asked her, looking ahead of them, passed both Neville and Luna. He shivered involuntarily.

Hermione looked to him and quirked a high, questioning brow. "What are you on about, Ronald?"

This time he looked at her, his eyes grave in a way Hermione had not seen them before. It was disconcerting to her, yet she just couldn't explain how. "Seeing them," he motioned to the thestrals, "Y'know, it's one thing knowing that they're there, it's another thing seeing them…," he said, letting a heavy breath escape his parted lips as he shook his head.

Hermione knew what he meant, knew exactly what he meant, but felt no need to comment on it, especially when there was nothing upbringing to say. "Where's Harry?" She asked Neville and Luna, suspecting they were in the same compartment as him on the train.

Neville shrugged his shoulders, but Luna spoke up, "He said he had somewhere to be… I'm sure it had something to do with the Wrackspurts… nasty things, they are… Always flying around the poor boy's ears," she went on nonsensically. Hermione bit her lip, not quite sure what to think. The rest of the ride up to the castle was quiet, save for the sound of the wheels hitting the cobblestone.

* * *

Hermione began to really worry about Harry at the feast. It was about half way through and Harry was nowhere to be seen. Ron noticed this as well, but neither friend said anything about it, deciding to keep their anxieties to themselves. Hermione also noticed that Snape was absent from his seat between the Headmaster and Hagrid at the Head Table. Dumbledore did not show any outward signs of being worried, which only calmed Hermione a slight bit.

It was not long after the students finished dinner and began their dessert that Harry and Professor Snape entered the Great Hall, rendering everyone silent. Hermione's eyes went straight to Harry's face and widened as she noticed his nose and mouth covered in dried blood. She gasped, and as did Ron.

"Greasy git attacked him!" Ron whispered angrily to Hermione, but she shot him a warning look, knowing how preposterous the thought was.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron… something _did_ happen though…," she said, more to herself than to Ron, but he got the message all the same.

Harry made his was over to the Gryffindor table heatedly, taking a seat between his two best friends. "Harry…," Hermione began as she brought a napkin to his face, moving to wipe the blood from him.

He pushed her hand away and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "Don't start on it, Hermione… I'm really, really not in the mood," he hissed lowly. He wiped his bloodied nose with his sleeve and placed his elbows on the table. "Malfoy is up to something; that is for sure… I'll tell you two about it later. Not here, though," he said lowly, his eyes scanning the Great Hall meeting briefly with Draco Malfoy's, who smirked at him before turning away. Harry growled. "Git."

* * *

Hermione sat in her bed with the thick, red curtains drawn around her, giving her some privacy from Parvati and Lavender's annoyingly mindless conversation about hair and boys and what not. She sat there thinking over what Harry had told her and Ron when they were alone in the Common Room just ten minutes earlier.

"_Malfoy is a Death_ _Eater… I just know he's up to something. You should have heard his conversation with Goyle and Pansy, about doing the Dark Lord's bidding. He was so _proud... _smug little git."_

"_Did he say he had the Mark, Harry? Did you see it, even? Think this through, Harry. I think you're being a bit illogical right now, irrational, even."_

"_Don't try and fight me on this Hermione, you weren't there, you didn't hear what he was saying!"_

"_Did you see the Mark, mate? Maybe Mione's right, you're kind of jumping to conclusions here…"_

"_Okay! He didn't mention getting the Mark, and I didn't see it either, but the way he was talking… gloating, even…"_

"_He was baiting you, Harry. He knew you were there from the start. How could you go off and do something so stupid?"_

"_Is it really that hard to believe he's a Death Eater? Look at his father! His mother! His whole damn family!"_

"_He's only sixteen! From what I have read, Harry, you have to be at least eighteen to get the Mark. He's only sixteen, besides, what use would he be? Still being in school, and all."_

"_Yes, because Voldemort has such _great_ ethics and really cares about education. Maybe Voldemort is using him as punishment for his father's failures."_

"_That's a bit far-fetched, now, don't you think Harry!"_

"_Forget it, then Hermione! How about the two of you talk to me when you've come to your senses!"_

"_Likewise!"_

Then they had stormed their separate ways, Hermione going to the girl's dormitory, Harry going to the boy's, and Ron left sitting in the Common Room, unsure of where to go.

Hermione scoffed and shook her head. Malfoy, a Death Eater? Absurd! Sure, he was racist, and his family does have a track of running Death Eaters, and maybe in the future Malfoy would go on to get the Mark, but as of now? A sixth year boy in Voldemort's circle? That's just stupid. She hadn't meant to get Harry riled up, but once he got her going, she was not going to just lie down and let him walk all over her.

Also, that whole idea of Draco being made a Death Eater as punishment for his father? Harry was really winging it, if you asked her. She knew Harry hated Draco, hell, _she_ hated Draco, but accusing someone of obtaining the Mark with little to no evidence was a very serious matter. Just thinking about the whole situation made her mad all over again for the same reasons. She knew in the morning she wouldn't be mad at Harry anymore, as she was never able to stay mad at the dark haired boy for too long, but as of now, she was fuming.

And on top of this mess was the fact that Slughorn turned out to be the new Potions teacher, not the DADA teacher as everyone had suspected… no… it was much worse than even she had expected. Snape had been promoted to the very position he'd sought after for so long; after years and years of biding for it, he finally got it. She scoffed and shook her head. She guessed it would be just another year of teaching herself how to use defensive spells and incantations.

She sighed and lied down, pulling the blankets up over her body. Exhaustion came over her in one quick, massive wave. She groaned as she thought about the next day; she had a full day of classes ahead of her, and DADA was the first.

* * *

**AN: Please review! I know this is the second time I'm trying this, but I have chapters prepared. I came onto my account today and saw the story was no longer there. Now I'm motivated to run with it. Review and favorite, let me know how you feel!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here goes! Once again I'll say that this is semi-compliant in that mainly the same events will occur, but the wording and timings will definitely vary! Please be aware of that! Thank you and enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning, Hermione rose habitually from bed as she threw back her red curtains and yawned heartily. As she'd been doing for the past few years at Hogwarts, the very first thing Hermione did in the morning was make her bed; she'd rather make it herself than have the house elves do it. Anything to lessen their work loads, the poor dears. She tutted lightly as she fluffed her pillow; it really was too bad that they didn't know how poorly they were being treated and wouldn't allow her to help them.

Lavender and Parvati were already up and were putting an insane amount of Sleekeazy onto their brushes while using charms to apply layers of makeup to their already flawless faces. Hermione rolled her eyes. "I do hope you two are done before noon," she said with a light hearted chuckle. "We do have classes to get to."

Lavender shot her a rather nasty glare before turning back to the mirror. "At least we try to look good, unlike _some_ people. Really, Hermione Granger, when was the last time you even bothered to look in a mirror?" She spat venomously, causing Hermione to frown and tuck a strand on unruly hair behind her ear self-consciously. She had only just been teasing Lavender like she always did; since when did she become so catty?

Parvati looked at Hermione with a small, reassuring, yet also apologetic, smile. "I think you look nice today," she told said. Hermione smiled back, but knew Parvati was only making up for her best friends uncharacteristically nasty attitude. After all it was true: Hermione looked just like she always did. She looked like a mess.

"Mm, yes. Very nice," Lavender muttered as she ran the brush through her hair, not even bothering a glance at either girl.

Hermione recoiled and turned toward the door intent on going downstairs to the Common Room. She was usually down there first, but today she was met by Harry and Ron who were chatting calmly and quietly. Harry was the first to spot her. Clearly there was still tension between the two, as neither Harry nor Hermione greeted each other; they merely stared sheepishly at the floor.

"Morning," Ron said to break the odd silence between the two. Obviously being in the middle was not a place Ron liked being.

She flushed a little, clearly remembering their row last night. "Hey, Ron. Harry," she nodded towards the green eyed boy who nodded back in greeting. Hermione folded her hands in front of her and inhaled deeply. "Look, Harry, about last night… I'm really sorry…"

He took in a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "Yea. Look, it's alright. I just, I was so wound up after everything," he said quietly, fixing his glasses and rubbing the back of his neck.

She smiled and placed a hand on his arm. "Let's just forget about it, alright? We all make mistakes…," she said, as she hugged her books to her chest in one arm.

Harry looked up at her and shook his head. "It was no mistake, Hermione. I know what I heard was the truth. You would know it too, had you been there," he said in a low voice.

"Listen mate, he could've been showing off to Parkinson; Merlin only knows why, though, the girl looks like she'd half-dog." Ron piqued in, still not quite believing Harry about Malfoy, but not totally opposed to the idea of it.

Hermione bit her lip. "Let's not talk about this right now, okay? Let's just get some breakfast and then head to class, right? It's too early for… well, for whatever this is," she said, dropping her hand from Harry's arm to run it through her knotted hair. Both boys agreed, not wanting to start anything and followed her out the portrait hole.

Almost immediately after stepping out of the Common Room, a second year came flying out of seemingly nowhere and ran square into Hermione which caused her to drop her books in a sprawling mess on the floor. "Umph!" She doubled over briefly before looking to the young light haired boy.

"Oi, watch where you're going!" Ron exclaimed to the boy who seemed to be in such a hurry. The second year wasn't paying much attention, though, for he was now staring directly at Harry, his eyes clearly searching for that tell-tale scar. "Go on, get lost!" Ron snapped. The kid jumped and ran back to where he came from, causing Hermione to quirk an eyebrow. How odd. She then noticed a scroll on the floor that had not been there before.

"I love being a sixth year." Ron laughed. "Everyone's afraid of you! And…. _And _we've got free periods." He wiggled his eyebrows excitedly. "Time to just sit back and relax… maybe play some Quidditch." Ron paused in sudden thought before looking over to his best friend. "Speaking of which, when are you holding trials this year, Harry? Being captain and all, you gotta start thinking about the season, y'know?" He rambled on.

"I dunno," Harry shrugged, looking over to Hermione. His eyes fell down to her hands and took notice of the odd scroll almost immediately. "Hey, where'd you get that from?"

Ron continued his spiel, not noticing that Harry had brushed him off, "but look mate, we gotta get practicing! I heard Slytherin had their trials over the _summer_-."

"Oh, shut up, Ronald," Hermione snapped as she turned the scroll over in her hands, looking at the wax seal. It was the red seal Hogwarts posted on all of their letters. "The boy dropped it; the boy Ron so _kindly_ scared off," she said, thoroughly perplexed.

"Well, his loss. And his fault, too, for being a clumsy chit," Ron replied, shrugging his shoulders in indifference before looking over Hermione's shoulder at the seal. "Hey, isn't that the Hogwarts seal?"

"Yes, Ronald, thank you," she retorted more harshly than she had intended to. Ron pulled back slightly with a small scowl on his face and Hermione instantly felt guilty for her severity. She looked at him and sighed. "I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just a bit overwhelmed at the moment," she explained.

He softened and waved his hand dismissively at her. "It's fine. I should have figured you'd already known anyway."

She nodded, and then looked over to Harry, holding the scroll out to him. He looked at her with a confused expression etched onto his features. "Well, take it!" She said, waving it at him. "It's obviously not for me or Ron. He was looking for you, not looking _at_ you," she said, shooting a look from the corner of her eyes at Ron who rubbed the back of his neck.

Harry took the scroll and pealed the seal from the paper, unrolling it. "It's from Dumbledore," he said, more to himself than to them.

"Well, go on," Hermione pushed. She was too involved now to let it go; she had to know what the Headmaster wanted from her friend. "What does it say?"

"It's about our lessons," he muttered quietly as his eyes continued to quickly skim over the calligraphy covered parchment.

"What?" Both Hermione and Ron chirped in unison, confused and curious about their friend's new reply.

He looked at them wide eyed, then groaned as he pressed the heel of his hand to his forehed. "I forgot to mention it, didn't I?"

"Mention what, Harry? Mention what?" Hermione pressed as she leaned in closer to her best friend, suddenly feeling worried and excited.

"When I was with Dumbledore over the summer, he told me that he and I would be meeting for lessons. He also told me that you two are the only ones allowed to know," he said, his eyes scanning the scroll once more before he rolled it up and placed it in his bag. "Our first lesson is this Saturday, apparently."

Hermione's eyes were still wide as saucers. "What is he teaching you, Harry? Have you any idea? Is he teaching you occlumency?" She questioned, her voice speeding up in her eagerness.

Harry looked down to his shoes before walking again. It was obvious he was trying to avoid the progression of this particular conversation. "We should probably get to the Great Hall if we want to have breakfast," he said, brushing off her question before speeding away from the curious girl.

Hermione's mouth dropped before she moved to chase after him. "Harry Potter, you stop right there!" She called as she approached him. She looked around for any ears that may be nearby before inquiring further in a low whisper, "What is he teaching you?"

He looked at her and sighed, still walking in the direction of the Great Hall. "Look, I told you that you were allowed to know about the lessons, but you're not allowed to know what goes on during them," he told her. She went to open her mouth, but Harry held up his hand to stop her. "No, Hermione. Dumbledore's orders; they're _mandatory_, and I know how you love things that are mandatory."

Hermione growled, but shut her mouth as they walked on. As they made it to the Great Hall doors, Hermione smiled and looked to her old, redheaded friend. "Oh, and Ronald?" she began, remembering his sixth year tirade from earlier.

"Yea?" he responded disinterest; clearly he was hoping that she'd get a move on so they could finally get to their breakfast.

"There's no such thing as _free time_ this year," she said with a smirk before pushing the doors to the Great Hall open and walking in, and heading towards the Gryffindor table.

Ron looked at Harry with large, bewildered eyes. "What do you suppose she means by that?"

Harry chuckled, patting Ron on the shoulder. "I think she means exactly what she said, mate."

* * *

At the table, the trio sat with Neville, Seamus, Ginny, and, to Ron's great dismay, Dean. Hermione had hugged Ginny on sight and the two talked shortly before taking their seats opposite each other. Hermione looked up to the Head Table with a smile as she saw Hagrid. The burly half-giant spotted the three of them and smiled happily, waving and winking at them. A sudden realization came over Hermione as she turned back to her two friends; guilt washed over her as Hagrid smiled happily to the three. "Are either of you taking Care of Magical Creatures this year?" She asked.

Ron and Harry froze; their forks paused half way on their routes to their mouths. That was enough for Hermione to know what their answers would be. She dropped her head into her hands and groaned. "This is bad. This is _so_ bad, Harry."

"He'll understand," Harry said unconvincingly, looking up to Hagrid who was smiling jollily as he ate his breakfast.

Hermione scowled at Harry. "Yes, because even you believe that statement," she said sarcastically, glaring at the boy.

"Look, just forget about it for now, we'll deal with it later. Right now we have bigger things to worry about," Ron said, pointing next to Hagrid at the Head Table.

Hermione and Harry followed his finger up towards the dark, surly ex-Potions professor. Harry growled as he glowered at the Head Table. "You're right. Hagrid can wait; right now we have to worry about that _situation_," he said as he stabbed a fork in his eggs and twisted it violently.

"Don't be so negative, Harry… he is on our side after all. And really think about it, who knows more about the Dark Arts than Professor Snape does?" Hermione said hopefully, looking up to the man himself. In a swift second, she locked eyes with him. Hesitantly, and with confidence, she offered a small smile. In return, Snape narrowed his eyes as he sneered nastily at her. Her breath caught in her throat as she quickly looked away from the troubled man.

Harry scoffed. "Yea, he knows Dark Arts alright," he mumbled. "Question is whether he prefers to use them rather than defend against them."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked up to the large golden clock. "If worse comes to worse, we can always run Dumbledore's Army again. That worked just fine last year," she said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

He nodded. "Yea, I guess you're right on that count," he said. He suddenly paused, his eyes peeking up past his dark lashes. Hermione looked over to Ron and noticed he was looking in the same direction, though his face was red and scrunched while Harry's was rather enduring. She followed their gaze over to Ginny and Dean who were laughing and feeding each other off their plates.

"Oh, knock it off, will you two," she said quietly, hitting the boys with her book lightly. "Mind your own," she scolded them.

Ron groaned and crossed his arms before standing up and grabbing his bag. "Let's go, we don't want to be late," he muttered lowly, shooting one last look at his sister and roommate.

Hermione laughed and stood as well. "I think that's the first time I've heard Ron worry about being late to class," she joked.

Harry laughed and walked off with her, following Ron. "Call the Daily Prophet!"

* * *

As they entered the DADA room, it was clear that Snape had imposed his personality upon its decor. The classroom was much darker and gloomier than last year; much like it was the time he subbed for Lupin back in their third year. The shutters over the windows were shut and the room was dimly lit with old, burning candles. Hermione looked on the walls and was thoroughly disturbed by the posters that currently adorned them. They showcased the effects of dark curses, and the Unforgivables. The woman in the Cruciatus poster writhed and twisted in agony, her mouth open to emit silent screams and sobs. Hermione shuddered and shut her eyes tightly as she shook her head; this was an absolute nightmare.

She sat down with the boys and pulled out her book as she bit her lip nervously. The book she had was brand new; as she ran her hand over the front, she could still feel the waxy residue that coated the cover. It was a beautiful book, and she'd been eager to get as much use out of it as possible.

She was so distracted by the book that she nearly gasped as a large, menacing hand swooped down and swiped it right off her desk. "A bit impatient, now, are we? Did I ask you to get your book out yet, Miss Granger?" Professor Severus Snape asked with a scowl upon his face. The whole class snickered as she looked down at her desk and flushed, her jaw locking in ire. He tutted and dropped the clean, new book carelessly on the floor beside her bag. "No, I don't recall doing so," he said mockingly before taking a step back and walking to the center of room, his hands clasped behind his back, "and that is because as of right now I require-no- _demand_ your full attention."

His dark eyes swept across the room, sending shivers down spines in their wake. He went on to talk about the Dark Arts: their meaning, their importance, and, to Hermione's dismay, how they're misunderstood in the Wizarding World today. Hermione notice how his eyes brightened and how his lips seemed to quirk upward as he spoke. She furrowed her brows; it was a bit odd how fascinated he was in this. She'd been so fixated on his actions that she'd had completely zoned out on what he was actually saying, which was very out of character for her. "_Miss Granger_." Her professor's hissing voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

She snapped her eyes to his, clearly breaking out of her minor daze. "Y-Yes, sir?"

The Slytherin portion of the class chuckled maliciously as Snape strolled towards her just as a predator would approach its prey. She gulped and clenched her fists, white-knuckled, in her lap. "I had just asked the class, Miss Granger, what the advantages of a nonverbal spell were. But of course you were aware of this, now?"

She immediately snapped into school mode at his question. She nodded. "Your adversary has no warning about the kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you somewhat significant advantage over them," she spat out, a small, smug grin on her face.

Snape smirked darkly. "A text book answer, word for word, I assume. How typical of you, Granger, to use a published definition instead of your own," he said dismissively causing Malfoy and his crew to snigger. "But correct, all the same," he scowled down his nose at her as he turned on his heel and took his place back in the middle of the room.

He went on to explain in further detail the advantages and then suddenly smirked, as though something clever popped into his old mind. "Not all wizards are able to do this though. It all boils down to the power of concentration and of the mind; a power which many wizards lack," he looked over at Harry which caused the boy to clench his fists. Hermione scowled. How low do you have to be to achieve pleasure from picking on a student? It boggled her mind, the immaturity of it all.

The class then divided into pairs, working on nonverbal spells; Harry was paired with Ron while Hermione was paired with Neville. As Hermione looked over to Ron, she noticed his purple face and Harry's raised wand. He was struggling, that was clear. Snape walked over to Ron and said something she couldn't quite hear, but she deduced it was not words of encouragement. That's when it happened. Snape turned on Harry with his wand raised as he sent a nonverbal to the boy. Hermione gasped and her hands shot to her mouth as Harry quickly raised his wand in return. "_Protego!" _He shouted; the spell was so strong that it sent Snape flying backwards. Hermione was wide eyed; she truly couldn't believe what was transpiring right now.

Snape growled and climbed to his feet. "Were we not practicing nonverbal spells, Potter?" he spat, approaching Harry.

"Yes."

"Yes, _sir_," Snape enforced through gritted teeth.

When Hermione saw Harry's lips quirk, she knew that this situation was not heading anywhere she wanted it to go. "There's no need to call me _sir_, Professor."

Hermione gasped once again, her now anger beginning to flare. How could he be so stupid? The ignorant, arrogant… oh she could go on forever. She wasn't at all surprised when Harry was assigned detention from Snape; it was only accounted for.

Ron and Hermione walked up to Harry as the class began to file out of the room. Ron was beaming brightly, and Hermione was doing quite the opposite. "That was utterly brilliant, Harry!" He clapped his friend on the back and laughed, putting his arm around him while looking at Hermione. "Wasn't it, Mione?"

Hermione's face twisted as she swatted Harry's arm with her book. "Are you _suicidal?_ Are you absolutely mental? Really, Harry, answer me because what you did back there was under no means acceptable. I am really furious with you right now," she growled, causing Harry and Ron's smiles to fall.

"He tried to jinx me, Hermione, did you not notice?" he fumed. "And the git deserved it; didn't you hear how he was going on and on about Dark Arts like it's the best thing in the world? It was unnatural!"

"Well, Harry, if I'm being honest," she said in a low, snide voice, "I thought he sounded a bit like you did."

"What?!" Harry snapped, not being able to see how Snape's spiel had related to him at all.

"When you were telling us what it was like to face Voldemort… I don't know…. Just…," Hermione began to trail off, feeling suddenly uncomfortable under Ron and Harry's scrutiny. Harry just scowled at her and began to walk away. "Harry? Where are you going?" She looked over to Ron. "Where is he going?"

He shook his head at her. "You know, Hermione, sometimes it's better to keep your opinions to yourself," he told her. "I'd better go after him. I'll see you… whenever I see you next," he said, turning and walking away from her, leaving her all alone in the DADA room with Snape. She groaned and ran a hand over her face; perhaps she should learn to keep her mouth shut. It did tend to get her into trouble more often than not.

She was almost out the door when a voice pulled her back in. "Not so fast, Miss Granger," Snape's voice called. "Shut the door," he commanded with strict authority. Hermione paused for a moment before looking back to him in confusion. "Did that sound like a request to you?"

She shook her head before complying nervously and slowly approached him. He had not looked up from his scroll to look at her and she wasn't she whether that calmed or unnerved her. She stood before him and wrung her hands. "Yes, sir?"

He looked up at her, seemingly surprised by her proximity. He recoiled almost instantaneously and his face soon became passive once more. "Take a seat, will you?" He offered, taking out his wand and summoning a nearby chair for her to sit in. Once again, her compliance was hesitant.

Hermione sat done heavily and sighed. She best get this apology over with now. "If this is about Harry, sir, I really do apolo-."

He scowled at her, finally meeting her eyes. "I don't give a damn about your petty friend's _teenage angst_, Granger," he said, raising his hand to silence her. "And do us both a favor and shut that insufferable mouth of yours before it gives me a headache." She shut her mouth and sat back, slightly fuming. If he wasn't her teacher, the hexes she'd toss his way… "The headmaster and I have made an…._arrangement_ of sorts for you," he grimaced, as though the words that were coming out of his mouth physically ailed him. "You're to have private lessons, twice a week from now on," he told her, picking up his quill and signing a scroll before him.

She smiled victoriously. "Yes! Oh, I knew this was coming from the moment Harry got that scroll this morning. Dumbledore wants private lessons with the three of us, doesn't he? Oh this is wonderful!" She rambled on to herself, smiling like a lunatic.

Snape growled, causing her rambling to come to an abrupt end. "I said _shut that insufferable trap_, Granger. Is another one of your Gryffindor qualities to disobey orders?" he spat, rolling his eyes. "And wipe that stupid grin off your face; you're wrong," he began, causing her to tilt her head in question. "You won't be having private lessons with the headmaster," he told her as he pulled a new piece of parchment towards himself.

She gulped nervously, her mouth suddenly dry. Somehow, she knew where this was headed and she didn't like it. "If my lessons aren't assigned to the headmaster, then who, exactly, are they assigned to?"

He dropped his quill and looked up to the brown haired girl before him. His face mirrored her apprehension with a look of disgust. "Me."

* * *

**So? I know I used a lot of direct things in the DADA scene, but that scene is too great to really differ from! Anyway, tell me what you think! Leave a review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for all the feedback! I hope you're enjoying it so far, and if you, leave a review! Here goes****!**

* * *

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked at the dark professor. Did he really say what she thought he did? "Sir?" she questioned hesitantly.

He rolled his eyes and pushed his back further into his chair. "Have you gone deaf, Granger?" he snapped at her, a slight snarl appearing on his features. "Is this something I should be aware of?" He looked at her with mock concern. "I'm absolutely serious, if you have hearing problems I'd like to know now, lest we have issues in the future."

She narrowed her eyes at the man before her while crossing her arms in an insulted manner. "Oh, I heard you, sir. I was just questioning the validity of the statement," she snapped back, none too pleased with his sharp remark. She knew this man had a strong irritable side, but she would be having none of it if it was going to be needlessly projected on her.

He looked at her for an extended moment with his thin lips pursed tightly together. "Miss Granger, I'll ask you only once to hold your tongue with me. I will _not_ be tolerating any cheek from you," he warned her in a low voice that vibrated through her ears. She shivered involuntarily.

Hermione nodded and pulled her bag from her side over onto her lap defensively. "Yes, sir," she said with much less sass than before. He smirked at this; at least the witch seemed like knew her place with him, unlike some of her insolent friends.

In one swift motion, he shoved his seat backwards as he rose to his feet. "Now, Granger, I'll have you know now that these lessons of ours will be constructed based upon my schedule; this means I will _not_ be asking what days will work best for you because I honestly don't care," he informed her harshly. Suddenly, he stalked away from her and headed towards the board, beginning to write notes on it for his upcoming class. "Also, my schedule isn't quite as planned out as yours; it often tends to change periodically." He turned to face her and began to walk back towards his desk with a graceful stride.

She furrowed her brows in confusion; how were they going to have these lessons if they weren't planned ahead of time? She already was not a fan of this situation. "When will I know when they are, then, if we won't have a schedule to follow?" She looked up at him with curiosity and annoyance evident on her face. "How will I know when to come to you? I'm sorry, sir, but this just sounds like a mess to me."

Without even bothering a glance in her direction, Snape pulled open a locked drawer in his desk and began shifting the contents around. "Miss Granger, does this bothersome questioning ever end with you?" He snapped, his eyes never bothering to graze hers. "Or must you know everything immediately?"

She clamped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm only curious," she said lowly, shifting her eyes away from the sallow man.

He bit out a cynical snicker. "If that's not the biggest understatement of the century, Granger, then I don't know what is," he muttered as he drew a small pouch from the drawer and tossed it on the desk before her. "I expect you to wear that at all times, Miss Granger, and _do not_ allow it to fall into the wrong hands." He looked sternly into her eyes. "The magic involved in making that is very strong; while the magic involved in its making is similar to those used on the Galleons you used last year, it is much stronger, and I can guarantee it is much more dangerous," he cautioned with a firm tone as he pushed the pouch towards her.

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him; was he really giving her something he thought was too dangerous? Did he really trust her with that? She took the pouch off the desk and held it cautiously in her palms, running her fingers over the smooth velvet as if trying to guess the contents of it. She could feel a cool, round bulb in there. Snape observed her tentative actions and rolled his eyes. "Take it out, it's not going to hurt you," he barked.

Hermione turned the pouch upside down, allowing the mysterious object to fall in her hand. As the bulb fell heavily into her palm, she was able to tell now that it was necklace; the chain was silver and as was the locket, but the jewel in the center was a deep burgundy. Her fingers tingled pleasantly as she held it gently in her palm. "It's a necklace," she said as she hung the pendent from the chain, examining it closely as it swung like a pendulum. "It's beautiful." She raised her eyes to his as she rest the jewel back into her hand.

He rolled his eyes once more as he dropped severely back into his seat. "Yes. It was my mother's," he said shortly, but did not elaborate; Hermione made note of his comment, but chose wisely not to push it. "It's charmed to heat up when it receives a message. The longer you ignore the message the hotter the metal will get, so I suggest not putting it off for too long. The message will not appear in the gem, but in the mind," he informed to her, looking at her with raised brows, "but only the one who dons the necklace can see it."

She turned the necklace over in her hand, the cool silver soothing against her skin. She closed her fingers around it and placed it deep in her robe pocket. "No," he said, causing her to look up to him with furrowed brows. "Put it on now," he told her sternly.

She looked at him with a questioning expression before placing it over her head and down under her robe where is rested heavily against her sternum. They stayed silent for a moment before Hermione finally spoke up, "Sir, may I ask you something?"

He sighed, sounded exasperated, as if answering her question was the most trying thing for him to do at the moment. "If you absolutely must," he replied.

She nodded and took in a deep breath. "How did you know about the Galleons?"

He scoffed. "Please, Granger, I know everything that goes on in the halls of this castle. You children can't hide anything from me for far too long."

Hermione nodded, but did not quite believe him. Once again, the room fell silent. She wished he would be the one to speak up this time, but he wasn't. "So this necklace, it uses a Protean Charm as well, I assume?"

"Yes," he told her, "one much stronger than yours, obviously."

She scowled sharply at the sly insult, but did not retort. Instead, she simply continued with her questioning. "What's the difference?"

"What?" he asked, as if thrown off. He obviously didn't expect her to keep going. He really shouldn't be surprised by now.

"The difference; what makes this necklace so dangerous, if it's just a simple Protean Charm?" she asked him, clearly searching for the answers she felt the need to find.

He looked at her for a long, silent moment. "That necklace is armed with Expulso Charm. If anyone who was not intended to wear the necklace, which is everybody but you, wears it, the necklace will detonate. It will be deadly not only to the person wearing it, but to the people around them," he explained to her in an eerie, dark voice.

Hermione's eyes had gone wide and her face paled. "An Expulso Charm? But that's dark magic!" She exclaimed in a loud voice, standing from her seat and quickly moving to remove the necklace.

Snape stood as well, his hand held out to stop her. "No!" He called out, but it was too late, she'd already removed and tossed it on the desk.

Hermione realized her mistake immediately as her head began to feel light and the world around her began to spin. In only a few seconds the world had gone black around her and as just she expected to hit the cold ground, she felt warm arms encase her body.

* * *

In a few short moments, Hermione began to come around again. Her eyes fluttered open and her hand flew to her head as she groaned painfully. "Uh…." Her eyes focused on the black clad figure leaning over her with his wand poised in hand. It was Professor Snape.

When he noticed that she was conscious again, he pulled back and examined her. "That was extremely stupid of you," he barked quickly, glowering at her. She physically flinched at his harsh tone. "I was hoping that you did, in fact, have some common sense. I don't know why I'm disappointed to learn that you don't."

She sat up and groaned again as her head spun. "What was that?"

"Another effect of the charm," he explained. "If you attempt to remove the necklace and you will lose consciousness."

She gaped at him; was he serious? "That…. that's awful! Who on Earth would create something so vile?!" she exclaimed.

He glowered at her and huffed. "That would be me."

"You?" She ventured. Why would he create something that could potentially kill her and those around her? She was absolutely boggled by this.

"Yes," he began, "I know all about you Gryffindors. You all ignore warnings despite the fact that they're there to help you. I figured that if there was a consequence to removing the necklace, you would most likely keep it on."

She barked out a bitter laugh. "I think the exploding would've been enough!"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Really? That didn't seem to be the case not five minutes ago when you hurled the chain at my person," he spat. She was silenced. "And yes, it is dark magic and no, you won't get expelled for having it. In fact, it's virtually undetectable. Another thing I'll have you know, Granger, is that not all dark magic is bad, in fact it could help advance the magical world if it weren't for all the prejudice associate with it," he explained as he crossed his arms.

She nodded and then looked around the room. She felt the need to apologize, but refrained; he didn't deserve her apology after the way he'd spoken to her. "I'd better put it back on, then," she muttered as she got up from the ground. She paused when she didn't see the necklace on his desk, where she'd haphazardly tossed it. She turned her gaze back towards Snape. "Where'd the pendant go, sir?"

He looked at her and smirked. "In your robe front, Miss Granger; you'd best get going if you'd like to be on time to class," he said to her as he headed back to his seat.

She felt the chain hanging heavily around her neck and flushed as she picked up her bag from the floor. She nodded to him as she turned to the door. "Well… thank you, sir," she said awkwardly.

"One more thing, Granger," he called from his desk. She looked back at him know that he'd already looked back down to his papers, clearly avoiding any further eye contact. "Don't mention this to anyone. Not even Potter or Weasley, is that clear?"

She was silent for a good second, her lips pursed tightly; why must it be secret? "Yes, sir," she confirmed. If he wanted it to be secret, she figured that there must be a good reason behind it.

"Now be gone, Miss Granger, I'd rather not be bothered with your presence longer than necessary."

* * *

Hermione met up with Harry and Ron later in NEWTs Potions class. She furrowed her brows as she spotted them, and Ron sent her a smile. She relaxed, knowing that at least he wasn't mad at her. She joined the two boys at their table. "Hello," she said, addressing both boys.

"Hey," Ron greeted, scooting over for her to sit next to him. She smiled and sat beside the redhead.

"Hermione," Harry greeted tersely, not bothering to raise his eyes to meet hers.

She sighed tiredly. "Look, Harry, I'm not going to apologize for what I said earlier, but I'd rather we not fight over this when there is so much more to worry about," she told him as she fiddled with her bag handle.

Harry nodded, knowing that she was apologizing to him but was too stubborn and too proud to say the actual words. "It's alright," he said, looking at her from behind his round glasses. "What did Snape have to talk to you about?" he asked, effectively changing subjects.

Hermione froze, the necklace suddenly feeling very heavy against her sternum. "W-What?" She stumbled somewhat nervously. She didn't quite know what to say.

"Snape," joined in Ron, "When I left, he was calling you back into the room. Was it because you weren't paying attention earlier? Merlin knows half the class wasn't listening either," he said.

Hermione relaxed immediately and nodded, deciding to take this route. "Oh, that. Yes. He told me that next time he catches me dazing off during his class, he'll give me detention and take points," she rambled on while avoiding eye contact. "It's unfair, I always pay attention and the one time I don't he jumps on it," she complained as pulled out her Advanced Potions text book. She looked over to the boys, both of whom did not have a book. " Wait a minute, I thought that neither of you got into this class?"

"Originally we didn't," Harry began, "but Slughorn's standards are lower than Snape's," he told her, leaning on his left elbow while tapping his fingers on his cheek.

After what seemed like ten minutes of waiting, Slughorn finally entered the room. He looked just as he had at the Great Hall the night before; big and burly with his waistcoat buttons dying to break off of the fabric and roll freely onto the floor. "Welcome, welcome class, to Advanced NEWTs Potions! We have some of the best in here, I've heard!" He cried jovially, his hands resting on his large stomach. Hermione smiled tightly; hopefully he toned down a bit throughout the course of the year, otherwise she'd find it a bit hard to take him seriously.

He began by questioning them on different types of potions, all of them answered easily by Hermione. The more she answered correctly, the brighter portly his face got. She flushed under the praise, but accepted it all the same. She always took credit when she knew it was due.

Further into the class period, Slughorn directed them over to a cauldron and lifted the lid. "Now can anyone tell me what this is?"

The scent hit her nose in one strong wave, and she relaxed greatly as it did. It smelled of freshly cut grass, new parchment, and, what was that? It smelled a bit like sandal wood. She immediately knew the answer. As she answered correctly, the potion was Amortentia, Slughorn asked her for her name.

"Hermione Granger," she replied proudly, stroking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Granger? As in the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, that Granger?"

She smiled but shook her head. "Nope; I'm Muggle-born, you see."

He beamed at her, his smile so wide she thought his face might just split in two. "Oh! This must be the friend you were speaking of Harry," he said to the boy next to her. "Muggle-born and the best in your year, correct?"

Harry nodded and smiled. "Yes, sir."

"Well 20 points to Gryffindor then, Miss Granger!"

Hermione flushed deeply. Suddenly filled with emotion, she turned to Harry and felt as if she was about to cry. "Best in the year? Oh, thank you, Harry. That really means a lot," she said as she laid a hand upon his shoulder and smiled.

"You _are_ the best in the year, nothing new or surprising there," Ron said as he rolled his eyes in a kind-hearted manner.

As the class went on, they began to brew Draught of the Living Dead. Whoever brewed it most accurately won a small flask of Felix Felicis; Hermione wasn't in it for the prize, of course, she only wanted to be the best. She read the directions word for word, but quickly became frustrated as she spotted Harry diverting from the instructions. She then took notice that he was ahead of her, and that his results were much better than hers. She leaned in towards him and noticed a sloppy scrawl on the book; she thought she may have recognized it.

"Harry, that's cheating!" She whispered sharply as she momentarily took her attention away from the work at hand, feeling that she needed to stop this.

"No it's not; not if I'm just reading it from the book," he said, ignoring her and continuing to work via the margins of the instructions.

She huffed and pulled away from him, pretending not to care. As she continued the brew, her hair grew as the potion progressed. She smiled as she took note of her final brew; it was nearly the right shade. At the end of the class, Slughorn came around and exclaimed joyfully as he spotted Harry's potion, which Hermione noticed was the exact shade. She fumed and crossed her arms; it was absolutely cheating.

Harry had beaten her and she was livid; not because he received better marks than her, no, but because he had cheated and she was not pleased.

Once class was over, Harry looked to her happily and tossed the flask of Felix Felicis into his bag. "Amazing, isn't it? Never thought I'd see the day that I beat Hermione Granger in school," he joked to his friends.

She simply scowled, obviously not finding the humor in this situation. "Cheating doesn't count Harry. You should just give that book back, I don't trust it," she said as she turned on her heel and left the room, fuming as she did so. Harry looked to Ron and shrugged, not quite understanding their friend's anger.

* * *

Hermione scowled the entire way out of the dungeons. It wasn't fair; she brewed the potion according to the rules! Why weren't the rules good enough? She growled and strode towards the stairs that led out of the dungeons. She headed towards the library, knowing that Harry and Ron probably planned to slack off for their free period and she would likely not see them until dinner. Typical. She chose her normal seat near the window and pulled out her text book, scroll, and quill before she began to write.

About a half an hour into her work, she felt her begin sternum heat up. Snape was contacting her. She grimaced; it was an odd thought, being in full contact with your surly professor out of class. The pendant became hotter, almost to a painful point. She quickly pulled it out while peering around to make sure no one was watching. As she grabbed the pendant in her hand, words flashing quickly in her mind:

_Tonight; the dungeons; after dinner; be there. Don't be late._

It was brief but to the point. She felt an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach; she was nervous for her first lesson. One on one with Severus Snape. Not something she'd ever wanted to do, but if it was Dumbledore's orders, she'd do it. She dropped the necklace back against her chest before looking back down at her parchment. She found she no longer had anything to write as her mind was buzzing with anxiety. She sighed, knowing she was probably going to feel this way for the first few lessons that would be arranged, and she was not looking forward to it.

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**Okay! What do you think? Please, guys, REVIEW! Thank you! Love you all!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, here we go! Please, please leave a review!**

* * *

At the end of the school day, many of Hermione's professors had managed to assign her at least two feet of parchment based on her previous knowledge of each subject. She'd scoffed while others groaned; she could write at least 6 feet on all the subjects using her smallest handwriting. The day had gone by rather slowly after Potions class and she was left thinking about both Snape's lessons and Harry's text mysterious book. She shook her head and growled under her breath as she thought about the damn thing. That book made her so mad that she'd rather not think about it, but her mind would not let it go.

Giving the Fat Lady the current password, she walked into the Common Room as her eyes immediately scanned around for her two best friends. When she didn't see either of them, she pulled her brows together in confusion. They should have been done with classes by then, especially considering that she had an extra class added to her schedule and she was done with her day. Hermione instantaneously approached Neville, who sat by the fire amongst a crowd of excited first years. "Hello Neville," Hermione said with a smile as she sat down in the chair beside him.

He looked up at her from his parchment and grinned in return. "Oh, hullo Hermione," he greeted before looking back down at the paper and furrowing his brows in confusion. "You'd think after five years of taking Transfiguration, I'd actually start to understand it," he said while shaking his head.

"You haven't happened to see Harry or Ron around here, have you?" she asked him, ignoring his previous statement; not because she didn't care, but because her mind was preoccupied.

Neville dropped his quill with a sigh before rolling up the scroll and placing it in his messenger bag. "No, not since lunch," he told her before leaning back and staring into the fire. "But you know those two." He chuckled with the shake of his head. "Always getting into all sorts of madness. I'm sure they'll turn up soon," he reassured her.

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. She really hoped they weren't off doing anything too stupid; at least not this early in the school year. Considering all the school rules they've broken previously, she was honestly surprised the two have yet to be expelled.

A few minutes later, however, the portrait hole opened to reveal the two tired boys, both of whom carried their school bags and looked utterly exhausted to boot. Hermione leapt from her chair immediately. "Where have you two _been_?" She fretted, looking them over. From what she could tell they didn't seem to be disheveled or hurt, merely drained.

Ron looked at her oddly and groaned. "Where were you when we needed you about two hours ago?" he asked her, dropping his bag by the fire and taking Hermione's place in the chair.

"I happened to be in class." She looked at Harry, then back to Ron, noting their troubled expressions. "What?"

"Ron and I have been in the library doing our homework for the past 2 hours straight, and then, on top of that, we bumped into Hagrid on our way back here," he said, running his hand through his thick, dark hair.

Hermione winced; she knew that could not have ended, or even have started well. "Oh, Harry… what did he say?" she broached the subject softly, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. It hurt her to know that Hagrid was probably upset with the three of them.

He sighed and took a seat next to Ron. "He was mad. But not mad like he usually gets, y'know? He was real mad… and upset too. He looked really sad, Hermione, like we broke his heart, or something," Harry said sadly. She knew he didn't like doing this to Hagrid either; he was his oldest friend, after all.

"It was kinda sad," Ron chirped in, running his hands over his face. "Seeing him like that and knowing it was you who made him feel that way."

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm sure he'll understand soon enough. He can't stay mad at all of us forever," she said hopefully.

Harry shook his head and exhaled. "I dunno, Hermione. You didn't see him. He was real upset about this."

It was silent for a few tense moments before Hermione decided to change the subject to something lighter. "So how'd the homework go?"

Harry and Ron looked at her strangely. "Awful," Ron said to break the silence, "Pure torture. And this is only the first day!" He exclaimed, throwing his hands around in emphasis. Hermione held back a laugh; he's always so animated when he's upset.

"The only easy thing was Potions," Harry said with a knowing small smirk. "All thanks to the Prince."

Hermione's eyes snapped to the green-eyed boy and narrowed. "Thanks to _whom,_ now_?"_

Harry looked at her before reaching down into his bag and pulling out that awful Potions text book from earlier. "The Half-Blood Prince. He's the one who made the markings in the text," he said, opening the cover to reveal the inscription: _Property of the Half-Blood Prince_. "I'm telling you guys, this is a sign. I'm not sure what for, but it's got to be," he said pensively.

Hermione groaned. How can he even keep a book like that? All ruined with markings and tears in the pages. It was unjust. "How can you be sure it's safe? Or even correct, for that matter?" she asked, acting all uppity and crossing her arms. "He could've just been some kid with a fancy quill. Or even a she. Of course it's a she, she's quite brilliant," she trailed off.

Ron barked out a laugh. "A she? Hermione, it says he's a _Prince_. When was the last time a Prince was a girl?"

She sighed at his ignorance; sometimes she really wondered what when on in his funny little brain. "It could be a _name_, Ronald, have you ever thought of that? How many _princes_ attended Hogwarts do we know of?" She snorted and turned to her other friend, who had his nose stuck in said book. "Either way, Harry, I think you should return it, really. It's not fair and I honestly don't think it's safe," she said, moving to grab the book out of Harry's hands.

Quickly, he smacked her hands away and clutched the book to his torso. Harry laughed tightly. "You only don't like it because it's helping me get better grades than you."

"That doesn't bother me and you know it," she snapped; it was true, too. She truly wouldn't mind if Harry marked higher than her if he did so fairly. "Well, if you want to keep it, fine. But I really think we should do some research on it, at the very least. Find out who this 'Prince' person is. I want to be 100% sure that it's safe. Something about it just makes me… uneasy," she said as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to rid them of the goose bumps that had risen there.

"Everything makes you uneasy," Ron said. "You're always worried about something." He chuckled.

"And in times like these being worried is such an outrageous thing?" she snapped at him. He remained silent, his eyes widened at her sudden outburst. She blew out a breath and ran her hands through her hair. "Look, let's just head down to the Great Hall and have dinner. I think we all need something to cool us down a bit," she offered.

The boys nodded and the trio made their way out of the Common Room and headed towards the Great Hall.

* * *

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione sat next to Ginny and directly across from Harry and Ron. When Ginny had joined her at the table sans Dean, Hermione had asked her where he was. She'd said that he had a load of homework that needed to be done, and frankly she needed a bit of space from the lively boy. Hermione had laughed.

Dinner was different for her than it usually was; she had this nervous pain in the pit of her stomach. It was there earlier that day, but had subsided because her mind was so preoccupied with class work and the Potions text book. Now, however, it was back in full swing, mainly because in less than a half hour she would be meeting with Professor Snape for her first lesson. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she knew that these meetings would not be too amusing. Unconsciously, she fingered the pendant on her chest through her robes.

Ginny looked at her oddly, her eyes travelling up to the silver chain around her friends neck. She smiled mischievously. "What's that you've got there, Hermione?" she asked, causing Hermione to twist her neck to look at Ginny with surprised eyes.

"What?" she questioned, her hand dropping to her lap.

"That necklace you're wearing. You never wear jewelry," she pointed out, catching the boys' attention now.

Ron first looked at her and then down to her neck, also taking note of the chain. His brows pulled together tightly "Yea, what's that?"

"Let's see it," Ginny prompted, her smile growing.

Hermione panicked on the inside and flushed on the out. "It's really nothing…." she said, reaching into her robe and pulling out the stone, holding it in her palm for her friends to examine. She wasn't so sure how Snape would feel about this; she wasn't so sure how she should feel about this, if she was being honest.

Ginny gasped at the sight of the large jewel. "Hermione, that's not _nothing_! That's beautiful!" she said, leaning in and reaching a hand out to touch it.

Hermione leapt back as quickly as she could. "Don't touch it!" she cried, causing half the Great Hall to look her way. Ginny looked at her with a hurt expression mixed with a bit of confusion upon her freckled face. Hermione suddenly felt a bit guilty; she just feared what would happen if anyone but her were to touch the necklace. She didn't want to take any risks. "It just… I don't want… smudges?" She internally kicked herself for her weak excuse.

"Oh… alright," Ginny accepted. The smile slowly came back onto her face. "So who's the lucky boy, then?"

Hermione looked at her, her mouth gaped; what was the redhead going on about? "What?"

"Yea, what?" Ron piped in, his eyes narrowed, though Hermione wasn't quite sure why. Harry didn't say much, just watched from afar.

"Well," Ginny began rolling her eyes joyfully, "that's obviously a gift from a boy!"

"No, it's not," she said sternly, shaking her head and placing the gem back under her shirt.

"Good," said Ron, taking a bite of his dinner. Hermione looked at him curiously; what was his problem? If it was from a boy, why and how would that affect him?

"Don't lie," Ginny pressed further. "Everything about it says suitor."

"Well you're wrong," Hermione insisted. "Unless… unless my mother and father are suiting me," she lied, looking up to the Head Table and noticing Snape's absence. She guessed that was her cue to leave.

Ginny laughed again. "Keep lying, Hermione Granger. I can see right through you. You'll tell me eventually, I just know it," she said, looking away from Hermione with a wide grin on her face.

"Well even if it was a lie, I don't think I'd be telling you the truth anytime soon," she said, getting up and grabbing her bag as she stood. "I'm heading to the library; I've got some books I'd like to pick up. I'll see you around," she said, walking away as casually as she could muster.

"Have fun with your mysterious boyfriend, Hermione Granger!" Ginny called across the Hall, causing Hermione to flush in both anger and embarrassment. One thing was for sure, the next chance she got, she'd hex the pants off that little chit.

* * *

Down in the dungeons, Hermione made her way down the hallway that led to the Potions room as she assumed that's where he would be, after all. The door to the classroom was shut, but light was bleeding out from underneath the door clearly indicating there was someone inside. She gulped as she pulled her robes tighter around herself before approaching the door. She was suddenly very apprehensive about this. She knocked softly three times, and then took a step back. "Enter," a dark, familiar voice rang from the other side. She took a deep breath, telling herself to relax, before pushing through into the room. "You're late," Snape said in a low, dull tone. He sat in Slughorn's chair at his desk with his hands folded on the surface.

"You said after dinner, sir," she said, shutting the door behind her as she stepped further into the room. "It's after dinner."

"That it is, but you and I both know that you weren't eating. It would have saved us both time had you just skipped dinner and came straight here," he said, standing from his desk and walking to the back of the room, towards a door.

"Perhaps next time you could be a bit more precise, then, sir. I could have come down here at eleven, if I so chose to do so. After all, that is after dinner." She smirked and flashed her eyes to the floor. "Also, like you said, keeping up appearances is key," she said as her followed him as he strolled over to the door.

"Watch your cheek, Granger," he warned lowly. As he grabbed the door knob, he looked back at her with his face as blank as a slate. "Are you planning on standing there all night, Miss Granger, or are you going to join me?"

She quickly walked over to him and followed him through the door way. She was feeling very nervous now; this was the door to the supply closet of student's potions ingredients and whatnot. There was not much room to do anything in there. "Sir, what are we-."

The room she entered was definitely _not_ the supply closet that she _knew_ had been there before. Instead, she was met by a rather large room, adorned with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and wall-to-wall bookcases. The shelves, she noted, were home to and abundance potion ingredients she'd never seen before and there was an advanced brewing station was set in the far corner of the room. She stood there in absolute awe. "This is not what I was expecting at all," she murmured to herself as she continued to look around. The walls were made of stone and were festooned with rich green drapes that hung from the ceiling; it was all very astonishing to say the least. And, if she might add, overwhelming.

"I certainly hope not," he said lowly as he walked further into the room and headed towards one of the two green chairs that sat near the dark marble fire place. "This was Salazar Slytherin's private training room, where he brought select students and worked with them on multiple subjects. It was quite controversial at the time, but most people don't even know of its existence nowadays. I assume that it wasn't mentioned in _Hogwarts: A History_, going by your reaction," he stated with a quirk of his brows.

Hermione sat cautiously in the chair opposite him. She shook her head slowly. "No, sir. This is completely new to me," she said quietly, still looking around in awe.

He remained silent for a while before deciding that it was time to get to business. "Miss Granger, I assume you're wondering why you're here," he spoke up, causing her to look him in the eye.

She nodded; she was positively dying to know why she'd been asked there. "That I am, sir."

"Well, I'm… sorry to say that I cannot tell you that just yet, Miss Granger." Her shoulders deflated at this new, so he quickly continued, "but what I can tell you is that what you will be learning in these lessons will be vital to your survival." He averted his gaze from her eyes over into the fire. "And I also assume you'd like to know what you'll be learning, if the look on your face is any indication," he said with a scowl.

She lowered her head in slight embarrassment before looking back at him with a more confident front. "I'd like to know what these lessons are going to entail, sir, so that I may prepare myself for them," she said.

He looked at her and smirked almost evilly. "You want to know what these lessons will 'entail', do you?" he questioned her darkly with an undertone of cynicism; he spoke to her so darkly that she shrank back into her chair. He bit out a titter. "Oh, Miss Granger, everything you'll be learning to defend against this year, I'll be teaching you how to use."

She furrowed her brows before gaping in sudden realization. She gulped and bit back the thought; she didn't want to jump to the wrong conclusions. "What do you mean, sir?"

He scoffed at her. "You know what I mean, you insolent child, you needn't have me spell it out for you," he spat bitterly, as though he were wholly disgusted by the thought.

"Dark magic." she stated in a whisper that was almost inaudible.

He scowled at her, but nodded all the same. "Among other things, but mainly the Dark Arts; how to use them, and how to defend against them," he explained hastily.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her hand involuntarily moving to clutch the pendant around her neck. "Isn't knowing how to defend the Dark Arts enough in itself? I mean, if I have regular incantations down, I can hold my own, can't I?"

He shot a bothered glare in her direction. "Despite what has been drilled in that calculated mind of yours, Miss Granger, Dark Magic is not always _evil_. It could tremendously improve your dueling skills and give you a better chance to defeat a witch or wizard who is willing to use them against you. Don't act so appalled, Miss Granger, it's unbecoming of you," he spat in a quick, annoyed voice.

She snapped her mouth shut, and then turned her gaze to the flames. She didn't quite want to admit it, but her professor was right. Everyone knows how to use regular magic, especially great wizards, but the use of Dark Magic could really give your opponent an advantage on you. She nodded, but did not want to continue this line of conversation just yet. "What else, then? You said among other things; what are the other things, sir?" she asked him, turning her stare away from the fire and back to his beady eyes.

"Apparition, Occlumency, Legilimency, and many other mechanisms that will hopefully help you survive the war," he told her.

"What are we doing tonight?" she asked, crossing her left leg over her right.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" she questioned in a perplexed tone; he'd called her down here to teach her _nothing?_

"Are you going to have me repeat everything I say, Miss Granger? I certainly hope not, things will become both annoying and cumbersome if you do. We'll not begin our actual lessons tonight, but they will commence soon," he explained with his face completely stoic.

"Do you have any idea when? Just so that I could be prepared."

"You can't expect to be prepared for everything in life, Miss Granger; consider the spontaneity of our sessions another aspect of your training," he said to her, rising from his chair. "I think your friends will begin to miss your presence, should you not return soon," he said, leading her to the door.

She followed him out into the Potions classroom. As she was headed for the door that led to the hallway, he stopped her once more. "All our lessons always will be in that room, Miss Granger. I've charmed it to allow you in when a training session is scheduled."

"Yes, sir," she said nodding, her hand drifting to the door knob and curling around it. All she wanted to do was get out of there as soon as possible. There was so much to think about and her mind was already wandering.

"And another thing: _Do not_ be seen entering or leaving the dungeons by _anyone_. That is essential. It would not look good for you to be wandering around these parts, nor would it be safe," he told her sternly, looking down his nose at her. Once again, she nodded, her hand twisting the knob slowly. "Get out of here." He ordered in a firm tone of voice.

She did not waste time exiting the room; she hurriedly rushed out of the dungeons after making sure the coast was clear. Dark Magic? He was going to teach her the Dark Arts. Her heart was beating rapidly against the pendant on her chest, which happened to be laced with Dark Magic. Her feet felt like cinder blocks. She just needed to get to bed. She just needed to think. She needed to do so many things that she just didn't have the time for.

* * *

Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry and Ron waited with Ginny and Dean for Hermione to return. They knew she spent a lot of time at the library, but it was only the first night of the school year; she didn't need to be out so late just yet. Eventually, he portrait hole pushed open to reveal Hermione looking completely out of it. Her hands were empty, which was very weird, considering she never came back from the library without a book, and her eyes were glazed over in a way they'd never been before.

"How was the library, then?" Ron asked her cautiously. She looked at him with her brows pulled together before she shook her head. Ginny smirked; she knew what this meant.

"Oh, yes the library," Hermione muttered to herself. "It was fine….lots of… books," she said, walking passed them.

"Where are they, then?" Ginny asked, leaning closer into Dean's side as he smiled into her hair. She knew Hermione hadn't gone to the library at all.

"Oh, um, nothing really caught my fancy, I guess. Look, I'm really tired; I'm heading up to bed. I'll see you all in the morning," she said, heading towards the girls' dormitory staircase with her hand clenched around the pendant tightly. Ginny was the only one who caught this.

Once Hermione was safely out of earshot, Ginny laughed quietly to herself. "What?" Harry and Ron simultaneously queried with identical looks of confusion upon their faces.

"Are you two really serious?" she asked them, her laughs subsiding, but her smile remaining on her face. "She obviously just got back from hanging out with her _mystery boyfriend._ The real question is, who is he?"

"No way, she said she was at the library; why would Hermione lie about that?" Ron said quickly, shaking his head.

"You're so naïve, Ron. She doesn't want you two going all brotherly on her with this. Leave her alone for a bit, though. She'll tell us who he is when she feels ready to," she told her brother and friend.

Not two minutes later, the portrait hole opened again to reveal a disheveled and smug looking Cormac McLaggen, who ignored them and headed up to the 7th year boys dormitory.

Ginny, Ron, and Harry shared identical gaping looks. "No…."

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! Thanks!**

* * *

The next few days went by without much fault. Harry and Hermione craftily avoided the subject of the Half-Blood Prince as often as they could and the trio fell easily into step with their new schedules. One thing, though, that had Hermione worried was the fact Hagrid had clearly been avoiding them for the entirety of their first week back at Hogwarts. She also noticed that he shot them both dirty and sad glances during their dining hours. She knew he was upset but she also knew there had to something else there… something they didn't know about. But still she didn't look too far into it because she already had too many other things on her mind. The pendant hung heavily around her neck every day since she'd obtained it. She was just so anxious; she knew she'd be seeing her professor privately again soon, the only question was when would he contact her.

It was Friday, and Hermione and her friends had sat down for their lunch in the Great Hall. Hermione noticed that Ron had been acting a bit sketchy around her lately, for what reason, she was unsure. At the moment, he sat across from her at the table, shoveling loads of food into his mouth, and to her it seemed as though he was not planning on stopping for breath. Hermione grimaced; that was one of her least favorite qualities in the boy she could think of.

"So, Harry," Ron began, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he looked over to the boy next to him. "Are you nervous for the Quidditch trials tomorrow? Did you see the signup sheet in the Common Room? It's like every bloke and his mum are coming down!" he exclaimed jovially, scooping a spoon full of potatoes into his mouth again.

Harry shrugged as he moved his fork aimlessly around his plate. "I haven't really thought about it, y'know?" He looked down to his food. "What with Dumbledore's meetings on my mind, I haven't had the time to think about Quidditch all that much," he said again, this time looking up at both of his friends.

Hermione knew all too well what he meant, but did not comment on it. "Doesn't matter who's gonna be there though, really, does it?" Ron went on, clearing his plate of food and pushing it forward to the center of the table. "You only need to find two beaters and two chasers; everything else is covered."

Harry's eyes hardened for a moment as he looked at his best friend. "Look, Ron, I'm not saying this to be a prat or anything, but I'm letting you know now that there are no guarantees; just because you're my best friend, or because Katie's been on the team as long as I have, doesn't mean that you'll make it again this year," he said sternly, causing Ron to go silent.

Ron's eyes shifted away from Harry's momentarily before shooting back. "…I know that. But we all know we'll be on the team anyway. Besides, where are you going to find a better keeper than yours truly?" he asked, now addressing both of his friends and sounding a bit too proud.

Just as soon as Ron said this, a seventh year boy approached Harry at the table as if on cue. He was tall and muscular, with short blond hair and a stubby face; Hermione recognized him as Cormac McLaggen, the foolish kid who ate Doxy eggs before Quidditch trials last year.

"Oi, Harry Potter, you ready for tomorrow?" he asked the green eyed boy, clapping him on the shoulder so heavily that is caused Harry to heave. Ron shot the boy a dirty look and Hermione assumed it was because McLaggen was also trying out for keeper.

"Um, yea," Harry said, pushing Cormac's hand off his shoulder and turning to face him, "Pretty much all set…"

Cormac laughed heartily, flashing Harry a charming smile. "Oh, Old Sluggy said you were a hoot," he said as he sat down next to Harry, shoving him to the side.

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she observed this. She knew what McLaggen was trying to pull. He was trying to schmooze Harry before tryouts. She scoffed knowing he'd have to do much better than that, especially if Harry had been willing to cut Ron.

"Old Sluggy?" Ron questioned, looking from Harry to Cormac and then oddly to Hermione, as though she knew what he was on about. She simply shrugged and looked away.

"He means Professor Slughorn," Harry explained to the pair.

"Y'see, Harry and I, over here are both in Sluggy's special group. We're almost like a family, eh?" He nudged Harry, who was clearly not interested.

"Not really."

"Ha, Potter. Well, I'll be catching you later at trials tomorrow," he said. He was about to make his leave before he spotted Hermione. He caught her eye, and then winked salaciously. "See you around," he said specifically to her before walking off, leaving Hermione feeling utterly confused.

Ron reddened at this exchange. "So that's him, then, eh?" he asked her, his tone suddenly darkened.

She looked over at him bemusedly. "What?"

"Your mysterious boyfriend," he said to her as he looked down at his empty plate, his face only seeming to get redder.

Her eyes widened in realization. How could Ron possibly assume something so outrageous? "No! Don't be ridiculous, Ronald! I hardly even know the oaf!"

He scoffed at this, as though he had proof that she had been with him. "Is that why he came through the portrait hole looking twice as worn as you the other night?"

She was angered by this statement; she honestly did not want to know what was running through the boy's mind. "I was at the library!"

He scoffed again, this time more indignantly. "Like any of us believed that, right Harry?"

Harry put his hands up in surrender. "I'm not in this. In fact, I'm headed off to Charms. Sort this out, please? We've got enough on our hands right now," he said before escaping the area as quickly as possible.

Both Hermione and Ron ignored Harry's plea. "Ron, you must be thick-skulled if you think I have anything to do with that… that.-"

"Oh, so now I'm an idiot, am I?" he snapped in an insulted tone of voice, leaning over the table as far as he could while sitting down. His face was extremely red and she could sense his anger, feel it rolling off of him in hot, spiraling waves. Why was he so mad at her over this?

She growled and snatched her books off of the table. "Once you've calmed down a bit over this, you can talk to me," she snapped at him, getting up and leaving the Great Hall to head to Charms.

In the hallway, she wiped her hand under her left eye, catching a stray, angry tear. Ronald Weasley always knew the right buttons to press when it came to her temper. Oh, he made her so mad sometimes. She only wondered why he would be so mad if she were seeing Cormac. For some reason, it caused her stomach to tighten. She shook her head; this was no time for hormones to kick in. She just needed to bury herself in books and charms and then she'd be fine.

* * *

During the entirety of class, Flitwick had made the students take notes from their texts, which worked perfectly well in Hermione's favor. Ron, who had sat on the other side of Harry, was clearly still upset with her, and she just did not want to deal with it at the moment. She snuck a glance over at the redhead and felt her heart warm up. She smiled at the sensation, but then frowned and hissed as it began to burn. She quickly grabbed the necklace by the chain and pulled the pendant out. "What are you doing that for?" Harry whispered in question, looking at her with a weird expression as he observed her holding the pendant.

She ignored him and read the message that played in her mind:

_After class immediately. May miss dinner._

She dropped it back into her robes and looked to Harry. "What?"

"Why were you holding your necklace? It was a bit creepy, the way you stared at it," he said, still whispering.

Ron had overheard this and decided to inject his thoughts. "Probably thinking of meeting with _McLaggen_ again after school; no, wait, she's probably just going to the _library_," he snapped sharply, shaking his head.

"Anything you'd like to share with the class, you three?" Flitwick interrupted, causing the trio to shake their heads.

Hermione groaned internally; what was she going to do now?

After classes that day, when Harry and Hermione were alone, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a small alcove. "I'm not seeing McLaggen, Harry," she said, looking him in the eyes.

He nodded. "I know, but Ron's a bit…."

"Hot-headed?"

"Yes, exactly."

"But he is right, I do have to go somewhere today," she said, her eyes shifting to make sure that nobody was eaves dropping on the pair.

He looked at her oddly, now confused. "I'm assuming it's not the library if you're being all… secretive. Where are you going?"

She sighed, and shut her eyes. "Look, Harry, I can't tell you. It's a secret, but what I can tell you is that I'll have to go to this place a lot in the next however many months and I need you to keep people from questioning it," she said.

He pulled back from her a bit and looked down at her. "I don't know, Hermione… what if something happens to you while you're… wherever you are? Can you at least tell me where you're going?"

She opened her eyes and let out a breath. "I wish I could but I really can't, Harry. Please? I especially need to keep this from Ron if he's going to act so boorish about it."

Harry sighed and kept silent for a while. "Alright… but be careful, please. Don't be stupid," he told her.

She smiled and hugged him briefly. "When have you known me to be stupid, Harry Potter?" She said as she pulled away from him.

He laughed. "I can name a few occasions."

She cuffed him lightly on the arm. "Don't be wise," she scolded him lightly. She then stepped away from him and peeked over her shoulder. "Look, I've got to go… you'll come up with something to tell everyone, right?"

He nodded, and before he could get another word out, she'd already vanished in the opposite direction. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Strange…"

* * *

Hermione was very careful when she was heading down to the dungeons, making sure that no student or teacher was around to see her. Once at the classroom door, she looked over her shoulder before entering it; she noted it was empty upon her entrance. Hermione made her way to the supply closet door in the back and cautiously turned the knob, opening the door slowly. She stepped in and relaxed; she was there first. For some reason, being there first always made her feel comfortable.

As she stepped into the room, she was suddenly knocked flat onto her back having the wind knocked out of her. She sat up heaving and wheezing in an attempt to get oxygen into her lungs and she'd also scraped her elbow on the floor as she fell. "Always be on guard, Granger, especially when you're alone," Snape said, suddenly appearing from behind a rather large mirror. "Had I been anyone else, you would have been dead," he said coolly. He did not helping her as she rose from the floor and held her right elbow in her left hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him, feeling her face heat up in pure anger. "Well, I wasn't quite expecting you to attack me!" She barked, her face scrunching in anger as she looked at the man. Had that really been necessary?

He sneered at her. "Perhaps next time I should fill out a form and have it sent to you," he said sarcastically as he scowled at her. "As I said, you must always be expecting the unexpected. You cannot wait until you hear the incantation to reciprocate. Most of the time, in fact, duels are fought in nonverbals. You'd be dead before you could raise your wand."

She sighed and slumped her shoulders, knowing that she had been licked. "Yes, well, I do suppose you're right about that…"

"Have you brought your wand?" he asked her, turning around and strolling towards the center of the room, pressing the tip of his wand into his palm.

She pulled out her own and followed after him. "Yes, sir," she said, looking down at her wand before returning her gaze to his back.

"Good," he said. Then, abruptly, he turned on her, pointing his wand as a stream of red light flashed from the tip and hit her square in the chest. She fell to the ground, literally stunned.

"Petrificus Totalus," he began, "possibly the easiest way to stun your opponent. And, coincidentally, also one of the easiest to defend against. Really, Miss Granger, what did I just tell you about being on your guard? I practically gave you forewarning this time, too. Perhaps a form _would_ be accommodating," he said, mocking her. He silently performed a Finite Incantatem on her, slowly bringing her back to light.

She groaned as she moved to sit up stiffly. "I thought you'd be teaching me Dark Arts and dueling skills, sir, not assaulting me!" she exclaimed, clearly upset about being beat again by the dark man for a second time.

She watched as he placed his wand in his pocket and noticed how his hand hovered over the top, never leaving the wands vicinity. He rolled his eyes at her. "This is a big part of your training, Miss Granger. You must be ready for anything that is thrown at you, or you _will_ die," he said darkly, his face showing no mirth or mercy. "I'll not be going easy on you, make no mistake."

She gulped and gripped her wand in her hand. "Neither will I," she said as she quickly whipped out her wand and pointed it in his direction. "Stupefy!" She shouted, throwing the hex at him angrily.

He merely flicked his wand, deflecting the hex away from him with great ease. He rolled his eyes at her antics. "What an obvious tell, you have," he said, moving in to circle around her slowly. "Your eyes flicked to where I keep my wand, right pocket, before you licked your lips somewhat anxiously; that's a tell on its own. Then, you gripped your hand around your wand about half a second before you attempted to hex me, which is an immediate give away," Snape said, stopping right in front of her with less than a foot in between them. He leaned down to look her in the eye, causing her to hold her breath, but keep her place. "Gryffindors, so impetuous, so impulsive. Here's a hint for you: be less transparent if you want to live to the ripe age of eighteen," he snarled, his teeth bared as he pulled back and stalked away.

She stood there, her mouth agape; she had no idea what say to that. She'd been the best in Dumbledore's Army, no one could've beaten her there. And she'd been at the ministry…

"I'll have you know I've already fought against Death Eaters and I'm still alive! I'm really not as pathetic and weak as you think I am!" She exclaimed, her voice rising as she went on. "I fought against Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix-."

"And Dolohov?" he added, looking back at her. He smirked and scoffed when he noted her expression. "Yes, and look where that left you, passed out in the Department of Mysteries. I know things, Miss Granger. And I certainly know this: if Dolohov or Malfoy wanted you dead, I'm telling you right now, _you'd be dead_."

"You don't know that," she said to him, this time a bit more quietly.

"Trust me, I do," he said, also softer after hearing the sound of her voice. He turned on her again, red light flashed from his wand.

"Protego!" she yelled, this time prepared to block it, and she did successfully. She smiled. "That better?"

"I had expected you to have blocked my second one, the third is much less impressive," he said, causing the smile to fall from her face. "Come over here, Granger. Before I can teach you the Dark Arts, which I know you're _dying_ to get to," he flashed a glare at her from the corner of his eye, "we need to work on your nonverbal magic."

She furrowed her brows at his statement. "But we're learning that in class, sir. Shouldn't we use this time to work on things you're not going to teach me anyway?"

He whipped his head towards hers causing his dark hair to swirl around his head. "Don't be senseless, Granger. You need to be an expert at this. Learning it in class will hardly help you in battle," he retorted, rolling his eyes. "We'll start off with something simple," he said, walking over to the mahogany desk and pulling the drawer open. He pulled out a small chest with a heavy lock on it. "Unlock it," he commanded, placing the chest on a stool before her.

She looked at him, then back to the box before raising her wand and shutting her eyes. "No, no, no. What are you doing? Just because you have to keep your mouth shut doesn't mean you must shut your eyes as well. Keep them open," he instructed.

She nodded and took a deep breath, locking her eyes onto the chest. She pointed her wand at the lock, flicked upwards and then to the side all the while repeating the incantation, 'Alohomora', in her head. When it didn't unlock, she pulled her brows together and scrunched her face. "How come it didn't work? I've read on nonverbals before! I've done exactly what the book said to do!"

Snape rolled his eyes at her and crossed his arms. "It's always books with you, isn't it? Books don't have all the answers that you're looking for. Time to expand your sources, Granger," he snapped. "Try again, and this time, channel your magic from your mind to your wand."

She continued to look at him with a confused, and somewhat disbelieving, face. "Channel my magic?" She half scoffed at the notion.

"Yes, that's what I said. Now, no more questions until you manage to unlock that box," he said, leaning back against the desk and crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk.

Hermione continued to do this and she continued to fail. She had no idea what he meant when he said to channel her magic. Was that even possible? Was he just toying with her? She had become increasingly irritated with this, and even more so aggravated. No matter how hard she tried, or what she tried, she couldn't get it to unlock; the closest she got to performing wordless magic was causing the lock to jiggle. That was about ten minutes ago. She huffed and stomped her foot, looking over at her professor. "Is that all you're going to tell me this whole lesson? 'Channel your magic?' Clearly I can't do it without more help from you! Or maybe I'm just not good at nonverbal magic!" She ranted, crossing her arms, and shooting an angered glare at the locked box. "People should just use keys," she muttered under her breath.

Snape watched amusedly; he'd never seen her fail this way or lose her temper in such a fashion. "Are you done with this childish tantrum?" he asked rhetorically. "And they say you're the mature one," he muttered aloud, causing her to glare at him. He sighed. "You're making it much harder than it actually is. Just think about what I said: channel your magic. When you perform a verbal incantation, you're channeling your magic from your mind to both your wand and mouth. Sever one of the connections and channel it to the other. Try again," he urged, pressing her to continue.

She shut her eyes and exhaled. She relaxed for a moment before pointing the wand back at the lock. She raised her wand once more and did exactly what he had said. The lock twisted slowly and opened after a few moments of jiggling around. She smiled and pumped her fists excitedly, feeling very accomplished and proud. "How was that?" She asked him, seeking his approval.

He shrugged his shoulders and picked up the lock. "It's unlocked," he stated, "but done poorly so. Had this been a hex, it would hardly disadvantage your opponent," he said, causing her to smile to drop. "You'll need a lot of practice. Try this," he said, tossing the lock onto his desk. "Levitate it," he said, indicating the box.

She nodded and tried. The lesson continued on like this; moving on from levitating a box to levitating the stool, then to attempting to transfigure a quill into a piece of parchment. It was about 3 hours into the lesson that he stopped her. She had halfway turned the quill into parchment when he raised his hand to stop her. "It's getting a bit late, and you'll probably be wanting to head down to the Great Hall for dinner before it's all gone."

She nodded and placed her wand in her pocket. "Yes, sir." She began to exit the room as a thought popped into her mind. She froze at the door.

He sighed heavily. "Get out," he ordered, waving her away.

"Wait, sir," she said, still stopped on the other side of the door as looked at him. "Is there any way you could make the necklace hurt… less?"

He looked back at her and smirked. "No." He flicked his wand and shut the door in her face.

She snarled and kicked the door, but made her exit as she exhaled tiredly. She was worn out. Perhaps she'd skip dinner and head straight to bed. Yes, that's what she'd do.

* * *

**Okay guys, what did you think of their first lesson? I know it wasn't much, but it was just the beginning! More to come I swear! Review, please?**


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